Pity Comes Too Late
by Josephine de Chagny
Summary: Christine realizes she's made a grave error in leaving her angel, but has she realized this too late? Mostly musical based, some movie.
1. Original ending

Author's note:

This fic has multiple endings. Each chapter is not a new chapter, but a repeat of the same story with a different ending. Please note that this is my first real attempt at phanfiction, and therefore it may contain not-that-great characterizations and/or it may be not that great overall. Please enjoy the multiple endings and review with your favorite! :3

"You're safe now," Raoul assured her as they fled the Phantom's lair. Christine knew he wouldn't let any harm come to her, yet she couldn't keep from looking back. The pained sounds that her angel was making… She couldn't bear to keep hearing them. She stopped and Raoul made it another few steps before he began to drag her.

Realizing that she'd stopped, he turned to see why, ready to fight for her if need be. "Christine? What is it?" he asked, more loudly than he intended.

"We can't just leave him there, Raoul," she replied. In the flickering light of the torch he held Christine could see his pained expression. "I can't," she said, tears welling in her eyes. She pulled against his grasp, but he didn't let her go.

"Christine, he's a monster. You said it yourself! He barely let us go! He won't extend that courtesy to you a second time," Raoul protested.

"You can't be certain of that, Raoul!" she cried. "Please. I have to go back." She tried to pull away a second time and this time she succeeded. She watched Raoul's hand slowly fall to his side, then looked up to his face and saw nothing but heartbreak.

"I'll go with you," he said. It sounded almost like he was begging her. He'd go with her because he wanted her to return with him. Christine drew a ragged breath and slowly shook her head. "Christine, _please_." Now he really was begging. Christine closed her eyes and turned her head, finding the sight of his pleading eyes too much for her to bear.

"I'm sorry, Raoul." She turned and started back down the way from which they had come, back into the darkness.

"Christine!" Raoul cried, but it only caused her to hesitate a moment before quickening her pace. She hadn't realized that they'd gone so far already. She wished she had taken him up on his offer to go with her if only so she would be able to see where she was going.

Her angel had been right. The darkness was deep as hell. It was maddening. She felt like she was going in circles even as she hugged the wall, following it back. Christine felt as though she had been walking forever when she finally made it back to the lake, to the boat. It didn't help that her angel had fallen silent. This worried her as she struggled to push the boat along and keep her footing so she wouldn't pitch over into the water.

When finally she reached the other side, she gasped in horror at what she saw. Papers scattered across the floor, candles and other things sprawled everywhere. And there, in the middle of it all, lay his mask. Tears streamed down her face as she took it all in, her hand flew to her mouth to stifle the cries that clawed their way up her throat.

Christine carefully stepped out of the boat and tried not to step on what she was certain was a composition that her angel had worked so hard on. She walked slowly, carefully along, her voice catching in her throat when she opened her mouth to call for him.

"Angel of music, please forgive me," she finally managed to sing, her voice shaking, "come to me strange master." Her voice echoed around her for a moment, but she was soon greeted by the same silence she'd met when she'd returned.

She knelt by his mask, tracing the outline of the hole that had allowed him to see with her fingertips. "Angel of music," she continued, "please hide no longer, come back to me, forgive me."

Christine waited, straining her ears for even the slightest hint of a sound, anything that would assure her that her angel had not disappeared for good. She didn't know how long she sat there before she could no longer contain the tears that threatened. She bowed her head and wept, clutching the mask to her chest.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. She had come too late. Her angel, brokenhearted, had given up on her.


	2. Alternate 1

"You're safe now," Raoul assured her as they fled the Phantom's lair. Christine knew he wouldn't let any harm come to her, yet she couldn't keep from looking back. The pained sounds that her angel was making… She couldn't bear to keep hearing them. She stopped and Raoul made it another few steps before he began to drag her.

Realizing that she'd stopped, he turned to see why, ready to fight for her if need be. "Christine? What is it?" he asked, more loudly than he intended.

"We can't just leave him there, Raoul," she replied. In the flickering light of the torch he held Christine could see his pained expression. "I can't," she said, tears welling in her eyes. She pulled against his grasp, but he didn't let her go.

"Christine, he's a monster. You said it yourself! He barely let us go! He won't extend that courtesy to you a second time," Raoul protested.

"You can't be certain of that, Raoul!" she cried. "Please. I have to go back." She tried to pull away a second time and this time she succeeded. She watched Raoul's hand slowly fall to his side, then looked up to his face and saw nothing but heartbreak.

"I'll go with you," he said. It sounded almost like he was begging her. He'd go with her because he wanted her to return with him. Christine drew a ragged breath and slowly shook her head. "Christine, _please_." Now he really was begging. Christine closed her eyes and turned her head, finding the sight of his pleading eyes too much for her to bear.

"I'm sorry, Raoul." She turned and started back down the way from which they had come, back into the darkness.

"Christine!" Raoul cried, but it only caused her to hesitate a moment before quickening her pace. She hadn't realized that they'd gone so far already. She wished she had taken him up on his offer to go with her if only so she would be able to see where she was going.

Her angel had been right. The darkness was deep as hell. It was maddening. She felt like she was going in circles even as she hugged the wall, following it back. Christine felt as though she had been walking forever when she finally made it back to the lake, to the boat. It didn't help that her angel had fallen silent. This worried her as she struggled to push the boat along and keep her footing so she wouldn't pitch over into the water.

When finally she reached the other side, she gasped in horror at what she saw. Papers scattered across the floor, candles and other things sprawled everywhere. And there, in the middle of it all, lay his mask. Tears streamed down her face as she took it all in, her hand flew to her mouth to stifle the cries that clawed their way up her throat.

Christine carefully stepped out of the boat and tried not to step on what she was certain was a composition that her angel had worked so hard on. She walked slowly, carefully along, her voice catching in her throat when she opened her mouth to call for him.

"Angel of music, please forgive me," she finally managed to sing, her voice shaking, "come to me strange master." Her voice echoed around her for a moment, but she was soon greeted by the same silence she'd met when she'd returned.

She knelt by his mask, tracing the outline of the hole that had allowed him to see with her fingertips. "Angel of music," she continued, "please hide no longer, come back to me, forgive me."

Christine waited, straining her ears for even the slightest hint of a sound, anything that would assure her that her angel had not disappeared for good. She didn't know how long she sat there before she could no longer contain the tears that threatened. She bowed her head and wept, clutching the mask to her chest.

When tears no longer fell from her eyes and she couldn't bring herself to sob anymore, she slowly picked herself back up, all the while holding the mask as tightly as she could, as though if she let it go it would disappear, the same as her angel.

She managed to take three steps back toward the boat before losing her footing. She pitched forward, flailing as she fell.

She didn't see him there. She didn't see the speed or flair with which the noose was draped over her head. Christine tripped, and then she found herself struggling to breathe, her own weight and downward velocity not quite enough to break her neck.

The very last thing she saw before she died was the mask as it slipped out of her fingers and clattered to the floor while the deranged laughter of her angel echoed through the air.


	3. Alternate 2

"You're safe now," Raoul assured her as they fled the Phantom's lair. Christine knew he wouldn't let any harm come to her, yet she couldn't keep from looking back. The pained sounds that her angel was making… She couldn't bear to keep hearing them. She stopped and Raoul made it another few steps before he began to drag her.

Realizing that she'd stopped, he turned to see why, ready to fight for her if need be. "Christine? What is it?" he asked, more loudly than he intended.

"We can't just leave him there, Raoul," she replied. In the flickering light of the torch he held Christine could see his pained expression. "I can't," she said, tears welling in her eyes. She pulled against his grasp, but he didn't let her go.

"Christine, he's a monster. You said it yourself! He barely let us go! He won't extend that courtesy to you a second time," Raoul protested.

"You can't be certain of that, Raoul!" she cried. "Please. I have to go back." She tried to pull away a second time and this time she succeeded. She watched Raoul's hand slowly fall to his side, then looked up to his face and saw nothing but heartbreak.

"I'll go with you," he said. It sounded almost like he was begging her. He'd go with her because he wanted her to return with him. Christine drew a ragged breath and slowly shook her head. "Christine, _please_." Now he really was begging. Christine closed her eyes and turned her head, finding the sight of his pleading eyes too much for her to bear.

"I'm sorry, Raoul." She turned and started back down the way from which they had come, back into the darkness.

"Christine!" Raoul cried, but it only caused her to hesitate a moment before quickening her pace. She hadn't realized that they'd gone so far already. She wished she had taken him up on his offer to go with her if only so she would be able to see where she was going.

Her angel had been right. The darkness was deep as hell. It was maddening. She felt like she was going in circles even as she hugged the wall, following it back. Christine felt as though she had been walking forever when she finally made it back to the lake, to the boat. It didn't help that her angel had fallen silent. This worried her as she struggled to push the boat along and keep her footing so she wouldn't pitch over into the water.

When finally she reached the other side, she gasped in horror at what she saw. Papers scattered across the floor, candles and other things sprawled everywhere. And there, in the middle of it all, lay his mask. Tears streamed down her face as she took it all in, her hand flew to her mouth to stifle the cries that clawed their way up her throat.

Christine carefully stepped out of the boat and tried not to step on what she was certain was a composition that her angel had worked so hard on. She walked slowly, carefully along, her voice catching in her throat when she opened her mouth to call for him.

"Angel of music, please forgive me," she finally managed to sing, her voice shaking, "come to me strange master." Her voice echoed around her for a moment, but she was soon greeted by the same silence she'd met when she'd returned.

She knelt by his mask, tracing the outline of the hole that had allowed him to see with her fingertips. "Angel of music," she continued, "please hide no longer, come back to me, forgive me."

Christine waited, straining her ears for even the slightest hint of a sound, anything that would assure her that her angel had not disappeared for good. She didn't know how long she sat there before she could no longer contain the tears that threatened. She bowed her head and wept, clutching the mask to her chest.

When tears no longer fell from her eyes and she couldn't bring herself to sob anymore, she slowly picked herself back up, all the while holding the mask as tightly as she could, as though if she let it go it would disappear, the same as her angel.

She managed to take three steps back toward the boat before losing her footing. She pitched forward, flailing as she fell. Suddenly, she felt a strong but shaking arm catch her around her waist. She turned to look, expecting to find a soaking wet Raoul come to save her from danger she hadn't been in. She cried out when she saw who it really was.

"My angel!" she cried, throwing her arms around him. Fresh tears- oh where could they possibly have been coming from, she thought she had cried herself out- streamed down her cheeks as she felt his arms wrap around her, pulling her closer to him. "Please, please forgive me," she sobbed.

"You've come back to your Erik," she heard him whisper. Her heart dropped and a horrible sob welled in her chest. Of course. She'd never even thought to ask his name. She'd never given any consideration to the fact that he _had_ a name. She clung to him even tighter.

"I'm so sorry," she said, but her words were muffled as she buried her face in his shoulder. "You must think I'm simply awful," she wailed. She could feel him vigorously shaking his head, no.

"No!" he cried as she pulled away from him, "Erik would never- could _never-_" He clung to her, and she realized that he thought she was going to leave him again. She pulled away just enough to look him in the eyes, but he turned away, trying to hide the horrible, deformed side of his face.

Hesitantly, she raised her hand and touched the cheek that was usually hidden by his mask, jerking her hand away when he flinched. "Erik, please look at me," she whispered.

"No, I'll only frighten you," he said, shaking his head very slightly. She swallowed hard and touched his cheek again, this time gently guiding his head so that he would have to face her. She could see the fear in his eyes, could see him searching her face for even the slightest trace of fear. He seemed shocked when he found none. "Why?" he asked. He sounded like a small, frightened child.

"I couldn't bear the thought of you down here alone. Your whole life you've lived alone, what a horrible life that must have been. Even if it means I must stay down here for the rest of my days-"

"No!" Erik cried. Christine sighed as she gently stroked his cheek.

"I can't imagine what it has been like for you," she said as he leaned into her hand, closing his eyes tightly as though he was in pain. "I won't leave you down here alone again."

"Erik cannot ask you to stay down here," he whimpered. Christine placed her other hand on his other cheek and leaned in closer, gently brushing her lips against his, taking care not to frighten him away. "I cannot subject you to this, every waking moment this face. Erik is a monster."

He pulled away from her and stood up, turning away. It was only then that she realized his mask was still there, in her lap. Slowly, carefully, she stood up and held it out toward him, her hand shaking. "I won't-" Christine took a deep breath and sighed. _Grant me courage_, she prayed silently. "I won't force you to hide yourself, Erik."

"No, no," Erik muttered, rocking back and forth on his heels, holding his head in his hands. Christine couldn't tell if he could even hear her.

"Come back to me," she said quietly, slowly lowering her arm until it hung at her side, the mask still gripped tightly in her fingers. "What do you want me to do?" she asked.

"Please don't leave Erik," he whispered after a long pause. Though she knew he couldn't see it, she shook her head.

"I won't," she said, "I promise you."

"But what of your precious boy?" he asked, sounding far more like the man who had both inspired and frightened her. The way he spat the word _boy_…. The contempt he felt for Raoul.

"I choose you," she whispered. He wouldn't turn to look at her, and so she took a deep breath. "I've still so much to learn from my angel of music. If he will still teach me?"

Her old name for him, his old name for himself, seemed to hit a nerve. She just hoped it was the right one.


	4. Alternate 3

"You're safe now," Raoul assured her as they fled the Phantom's lair. Christine knew he wouldn't let any harm come to her, yet she couldn't keep from looking back. The pained sounds that her angel was making… She couldn't bear to keep hearing them. She stopped and Raoul made it another few steps before he began to drag her.

Realizing that she'd stopped, he turned to see why, ready to fight for her if need be. "Christine? What is it?" he asked, more loudly than he intended.

"We can't just leave him there, Raoul," she replied. In the flickering light of the torch he held Christine could see his pained expression. "I can't," she said, tears welling in her eyes. She pulled against his grasp, but he didn't let her go.

"Christine, he's a monster. You said it yourself! He barely let us go! He won't extend that courtesy to you a second time," Raoul protested.

"You can't be certain of that, Raoul!" she cried. "Please. I have to go back." She tried to pull away a second time and this time she succeeded. She watched Raoul's hand slowly fall to his side, then looked up to his face and saw nothing but heartbreak.

"I'll go with you," he said. It sounded almost like he was begging her. He'd go with her because he wanted her to return with him. Christine drew a ragged breath and slowly shook her head. "Christine, _please_." Now he really was begging. Christine closed her eyes and turned her head, finding the sight of his pleading eyes too much for her to bear.

"I'm sorry, Raoul." She turned and started back down the way from which they had come, back into the darkness.

"Christine!" Raoul cried, but it only caused her to hesitate a moment before quickening her pace. She hadn't realized that they'd gone so far already. She wished she had taken him up on his offer to go with her if only so she would be able to see where she was going.

Her angel had been right. The darkness was deep as hell. It was maddening. She felt like she was going in circles even as she hugged the wall, following it back. Christine felt as though she had been walking forever when she finally made it back to the lake, to the boat. It didn't help that her angel had fallen silent. This worried her as she struggled to push the boat along and keep her footing so she wouldn't pitch over into the water.

When finally she reached the other side, she gasped in horror at what she saw. Papers scattered across the floor, candles and other things sprawled everywhere. And there, in the middle of it all, lay his mask. Tears streamed down her face as she took it all in, her hand flew to her mouth to stifle the cries that clawed their way up her throat.

Christine carefully stepped out of the boat and tried not to step on what she was certain was a composition that her angel had worked so hard on. She walked slowly, carefully along, her voice catching in her throat when she opened her mouth to call for him.

"Angel of music, please forgive me," she finally managed to sing, her voice shaking, "come to me strange master." Her voice echoed around her for a moment, but she was soon greeted by the same silence she'd met when she'd returned.

She knelt by his mask, tracing the outline of the hole that had allowed him to see with her fingertips. "Angel of music," she continued, "please hide no longer, come back to me, forgive me."

Christine waited, straining her ears for even the slightest hint of a sound, anything that would assure her that her angel had not disappeared for good. She didn't know how long she sat there before she could no longer contain the tears that threatened. She bowed her head and wept, clutching the mask to her chest.

When tears no longer fell from her eyes and she couldn't bring herself to sob anymore, she slowly picked herself back up, all the while holding the mask as tightly as she could, as though if she let it go it would disappear, the same as her angel.

She managed to take three steps back toward the boat before losing her footing. She pitched forward, flailing as she fell. Suddenly, she felt a strong but shaking arm catch her around her waist. She turned, expecting to see a soaking wet Raoul, come back to save her from a danger that hadn't even been present-

-But found herself face-to-face with her angel of music. She let out a small shriek of surprise, dropping the mask to the ground with a clatter. "You _are_ still here," she said, relieved, "Oh, I thought you'd gone, I was so-" She didn't get a chance to get those last words out. Before she could react, she felt something fall around her neck, and then she felt it tighten. "My angel-" she choked as he pulled the rope.

She kicked and thrashed for a good minute before he jerked the rope. The force broke her neck, and she was suddenly very, very still.

Erik slowly lowered her to the floor, loosening the noose and removing it from her neck. It was only then, seeing her lying so still, that he realized what he had done.

"Christine?" he cried, falling to his knees. He pulled her into his lap, cradling her head in his arms, tiny, animalistic wails escaping his throat. "No, Erik didn't mean it, please no."

He rocked her gently back and forth, stroking her cheeks, begging her to wake up. He was all but screaming at her to wake up when Raoul finally pulled himself out of the lake.

Christine hadn't wanted him to come with her, she'd insisted that he wouldn't hurt her, but Raoul didn't trust her angel. "Christine?" he called as he spotted the other man, hunched over and sobbing. It took him another half of a minute to realize why. "Christine!" he screamed as he scrambled across the wet floor, slipping on the paper scattered everywhere. "What have you done to her? What have you done? Christine!"

"Erik didn't mean it, Erik didn't mean it," was all the other man said. As Raoul approached he could see the odd angle of her neck.

"No," he whispered, his hands flying up to his mouth. "No!"

The other man didn't seem to even be aware of Raoul's presence. _Pity_, thought Raoul, _I'm sure he'd like the chance to do the same to me._ He looked around for something he could use as a weapon. The nearest thing to him was a tall candelabra. It would have to do.

With one good, hard smack to the back of the head, the Phantom pitched forward. With each subsequent hit, Raoul screamed with rage. He only stopped when the man was no longer recognizable.


	5. Alternate 4

"You're safe now," Raoul assured her as they fled the Phantom's lair. Christine knew he wouldn't let any harm come to her, yet she couldn't keep from looking back. The pained sounds that her angel was making… She couldn't bear to keep hearing them. She stopped and Raoul made it another few steps before he began to drag her.

Realizing that she'd stopped, he turned to see why, ready to fight for her if need be. "Christine? What is it?" he asked, more loudly than he intended.

"We can't just leave him there, Raoul," she replied. In the flickering light of the torch he held Christine could see his pained expression. "I can't," she said, tears welling in her eyes. She pulled against his grasp, but he didn't let her go.

"Christine, he's a monster. You said it yourself! He barely let us go! He won't extend that courtesy to you a second time," Raoul protested.

"You can't be certain of that, Raoul!" she cried. "Please. I have to go back." She tried to pull away a second time and this time she succeeded. She watched Raoul's hand slowly fall to his side, then looked up to his face and saw nothing but heartbreak.

"I'll go with you," he said. It sounded almost like he was begging her. He'd go with her because he wanted her to return with him. Christine drew a ragged breath and slowly shook her head. "Christine, _please_." Now he really was begging. Christine closed her eyes and turned her head, finding the sight of his pleading eyes too much for her to bear.

"I'm sorry, Raoul." She turned and started back down the way from which they had come, back into the darkness.

"Christine!" Raoul cried, but it only caused her to hesitate a moment before quickening her pace. She hadn't realized that they'd gone so far already. She wished she had taken him up on his offer to go with her if only so she would be able to see where she was going.

Her angel had been right. The darkness was deep as hell. It was maddening. She felt like she was going in circles even as she hugged the wall, following it back. Christine felt as though she had been walking forever when she finally made it back to the lake, to the boat. It didn't help that her angel had fallen silent. This worried her as she struggled to push the boat along and keep her footing so she wouldn't pitch over into the water.

When finally she reached the other side, she gasped in horror at what she saw. Papers scattered across the floor, candles and other things sprawled everywhere. And there, in the middle of it all, lay his mask. Tears streamed down her face as she took it all in, her hand flew to her mouth to stifle the cries that clawed their way up her throat.

Christine carefully stepped out of the boat and tried not to step on what she was certain was a composition that her angel had worked so hard on. She walked slowly, carefully along, her voice catching in her throat when she opened her mouth to call for him.

"Angel of music, please forgive me," she finally managed to sing, her voice shaking, "come to me strange master." Her voice echoed around her for a moment, but she was soon greeted by the same silence she'd met when she'd returned.

She knelt by his mask, tracing the outline of the hole that had allowed him to see with her fingertips. "Angel of music," she continued, "please hide no longer, come back to me, forgive me."

Christine waited, straining her ears for even the slightest hint of a sound, anything that would assure her that her angel had not disappeared for good. She didn't know how long she sat there before she could no longer contain the tears that threatened. She bowed her head and wept, clutching the mask to her chest.

When tears no longer fell from her eyes and she couldn't bring herself to sob anymore, she slowly picked herself back up, all the while holding the mask as tightly as she could, as though if she let it go it would disappear, the same as her angel.

She made her way back to the boat, pausing before she shoved off again to look back, hoping desperately to see her angel's face just one last time, even if it meant having to gaze upon that side which frightened her so. When she was certain she was the only one there, she shoved the boat away from the landing with the long oar, nearly losing her balance in the process.

She felt much weaker now, and still she clutched her angel's mask in her hand. It made it far more difficult for her to maneuver. The oar slipped from her grasp, and as she tried to grab it, she slipped. Down into the lake she went, the dress the Phantom had forced her to wear weighing her down. She kicked and fought against the heavy fabric that pulled her down.

Christine Daae put up a good struggle, but in the end she could not keep herself afloat. As she struggled, she began to aspirate the murky water. Soon, she stopped struggling. As she sank, she finally let go of the mask. She saw it floating, falling near her as she breathed in more of the water.

When next she opened her eyes, she had fully expected to be greeted by the sight of her father, smiling down at her. Unfortunately for poor Christine, this was not the case. Before she opened her eyes, her lungs were on fire. She couldn't breathe. Because she couldn't breathe, she began to panic, but her limbs were too heavy for her to move. She was so very tired. Surely her lungs could wait to be on fire some other time.

The next thing she noticed was the odd, repetitive pressure on her chest, as though someone was pushing on it in short bursts. The last was the strange texture of lips against her own, blowing air into her mouth. She wished it would stop, every movement was utter agony. Why couldn't they just let her sleep? It was so much better-

She coughed, very suddenly, and it felt vile, like she had lost her lunch. Gasping for air, she coughed again, the same awful feeling, followed by the fire in her chest slowly diminishing. She could almost make out someone's voice as she slowly opened her eyes.

There, kneeling beside her, was an absolutely sopping wet Phantom, his eyes wide and scared. When he saw that she was coming around, he quickly backed away, hiding the disfigured side of his face as best as he could with his hand.

"No," Christine rasped, "please don't leave me." He stopped, but that terrified expression remained. "Wh- What happened?"

"You- You went into the water. Erik heard you splashing and dove in to save Christine…" her angel's voice cracked as he recounted what had happened, "So still… Erik thought he was too late."

"Who… Who is Erik?" Christine asked softly. the Phantom chuckled.

"Of course you wouldn't know my name," he said, almost too quietly for her to hear. "We must get you dry and return you to your boy. I'm sure he's worried for you." Christine detected clear notes of bitterness in those last few words. She shook her head.

"No," she said as she fought to sit up, "No I'm staying here with you."

The Phantom laughed bitterly. "Erik could not subject you to such a life. You deserve to live in the light, just-" his voice wavered, "just as Erik deserves to live in the darkness."

"But that's not true-"

"You know _nothing_, Christine Daae." There was something so angry and yet so very sad about the way he spat the words at her. Christine wanted so badly to comfort him, but even moving a small amount proved more than she could manage. She fought to pull herself up, but in the end it was Erik, her angel, who finally managed to get her standing, though he seemed to struggle as well. "You know _nothing,_" he repeated, much quieter this time, his words barely a breath.

He helped her to change out of her wet clothes, carefully averting his eyes as he did so. It was only then that Christine realized how cold she was. She'd not given much thought to the cool air until she found herself shivering in heavy, wet layers.

Once back in the dress she'd worn on stage- it couldn't have just been hours before, could it?- she felt slightly better. That was, until her angel took her roughly by the wrist and practically dragged her back to the lake, where the boat waited for them, the inside still wet from being tipped.

"You must go back to _him_," he said to her. She could hear the pain, no, the defeat in his voice.

"No, Erik, please," Christine begged. The sound of her voice saying his name caused him to hesitate, caused his grip on her wrist to loosen.

"Erik cannot bear to see you sacrifice yourself to a life in darkness," he said, glancing over his shoulder at her before he stepped into the boat, pulling her along after him. Though she struggled against him, in the end he won and she sat, defeated, as he brought her back to where Raoul stood waiting.

"Go to him," Erik told her, looking down and away from her. "Go now and leave me." When Christine didn't move, he repeated the command in a louder, pained voice. "Go now and leave me!"

Christine reached out to him, but he shied away from her. "Go!" he hollered. "Go to him! Leave me!" His voice was cracking. He couldn't keep the thin facade of composure much longer. Christine, tears welling once more in her eyes, crawled out of the boat and into Raoul's waiting arms.

They stood there, at the edge of the water, and watched as her angel crossed the lake one last time.


	6. Alternate 5

"You're safe now," Raoul assured her as they fled the Phantom's lair. Christine knew he wouldn't let any harm come to her, yet she couldn't keep from looking back. The pained sounds that her angel was making… She couldn't bear to keep hearing them. She stopped and Raoul made it another few steps before he began to drag her.

Realizing that she'd stopped, he turned to see why, ready to fight for her if need be. "Christine? What is it?" he asked, more loudly than he intended.

"We can't just leave him there, Raoul," she replied. In the flickering light of the torch he held Christine could see his pained expression. "I can't," she said, tears welling in her eyes. She pulled against his grasp, but he didn't let her go.

"Christine, he's a monster. You said it yourself! He barely let us go! He won't extend that courtesy to you a second time," Raoul protested.

"You can't be certain of that, Raoul!" she cried. "Please. I have to go back." She tried to pull away a second time and this time she succeeded. She watched Raoul's hand slowly fall to his side, then looked up to his face and saw nothing but heartbreak.

"I'll go with you," he said. It sounded almost like he was begging her. He'd go with her because he wanted her to return with him. Christine drew a ragged breath and slowly shook her head. "Christine, _please_." Now he really was begging. Christine closed her eyes and turned her head, finding the sight of his pleading eyes too much for her to bear.

"I'm sorry, Raoul." She turned and started back down the way from which they had come, back into the darkness.

"Christine!" Raoul cried, but it only caused her to hesitate a moment before quickening her pace. She hadn't realized that they'd gone so far already. She wished she had taken him up on his offer to go with her if only so she would be able to see where she was going.

Her angel had been right. The darkness was deep as hell. It was maddening. She felt like she was going in circles even as she hugged the wall, following it back. Christine felt as though she had been walking forever when she finally made it back to the lake, to the boat. It didn't help that her angel had fallen silent. This worried her as she struggled to push the boat along and keep her footing so she wouldn't pitch over into the water.

When finally she reached the other side, she gasped in horror at what she saw. Papers scattered across the floor, candles and other things sprawled everywhere. And there, in the middle of it all, lay his mask. Tears streamed down her face as she took it all in, her hand flew to her mouth to stifle the cries that clawed their way up her throat.

Christine carefully stepped out of the boat and tried not to step on what she was certain was a composition that her angel had worked so hard on. She walked slowly, carefully along, her voice catching in her throat when she opened her mouth to call for him.

"Angel of music, please forgive me," she finally managed to sing, her voice shaking, "come to me strange master." Her voice echoed around her for a moment, but she was soon greeted by the same silence she'd met when she'd returned.

She knelt by his mask, tracing the outline of the hole that had allowed him to see with her fingertips. "Angel of music," she continued, "please hide no longer, come back to me, forgive me."

Christine waited, straining her ears for even the slightest hint of a sound, anything that would assure her that her angel had not disappeared for good. She didn't know how long she sat there before she could no longer contain the tears that threatened. She bowed her head and wept, clutching the mask to her chest.

When tears no longer fell from her eyes and she couldn't bring herself to sob anymore, she slowly picked herself back up, all the while holding the mask as tightly as she could, as though if she let it go it would disappear, the same as her angel.

Slowly, she turned and took in the sight of her angel's home, his lair, in utter ruins. _What have I done?_ she thought, _this is all my fault._

As she walked slowly, defeatedly, back to the boat, she stooped over to pick up some of the papers that were scattered. The candles, strewn everywhere now, would no doubt destroy all her angel's hard work if she did nothing. Overhead, she could hear the angry mob marching on, ready to kill her angel. They were too late though. He was long gone. He had to be. She only hoped that Raoul would forgive her.

She decided the best thing would be to take the papers with her. If that mob did make it down there, they would surely destroy everything. She stacked the papers as neatly as she could in the bottom of the boat, placing the mask on the top, almost unwilling to let it go. She turned and looked around one more time before she stepped into the boat, fresh tears stinging her eyes as she understood that she had come too late. If only she'd realized sooner, if only she hadn't been so selfish-

"Christine?" her name was but a whisper on the lips of the figure standing in the shadows, but she immediately recognized the voice. She twirled around on her heel, her heart soaring. She _hadn't_ been too late after all.

"Oh, my angel," she exclaimed, taking a few eager steps forward before realizing that something was horribly, horribly wrong.

"Come, look upon your angel of music, Christine," the Phantom said, taking a cautious step toward the edge of the shadows. As he reached out to her, Christine could see that his hands were covered with blood. Her hands flew to her mouth to stifle the scream that built in her throat.

"You- what have you done, my angel? You're covered with blood!" she shrieked, staggering backwards. "Are you injured?"

The man chuckled and Christine's blood ran cold. There was something horribly terrifying about the sound. "I am unharmed," he said in an unnatural cadence. It frightened Christine so much that she wished that she hadn't come back.

Her angel saw the fear in her eyes and stepped forward, wanting to hold her, to comfort her. Christine gave a terrible shriek that echoed through the cavern as she gazed upon his face, but it wasn't his face. She stumbled backwards, giving another shriek as she fell to the ground. It was her angel, but his disfigured face was obscured by what had appeared at first to be simply a bloodied leather mask- until Christine caught sight of the sandy blond-brown curls that sat atop his head.

"What have you done?" she cried, "Oh god, what have you _done_?"

"Christine!" her angel's voice boomed through the cavern, scaring her into silence, "Now we can be together. Does this mask not please you?" He gestured to the mask he had made from her lover's face. "I've done this for you. It's all for you!" He was at her side with just four long strides, and she was struggling to crawl away while never taking her eyes away from the sight of his face, no, Raoul's face.

"Oh, Raoul!" she cried, and her angel growled with rage. She'd left him alone, vulnerable. Had she stayed with him, perhaps her angel, this _monster_ before her eyes, wouldn't have struck. Now he lay dead somewhere and it was all her fault. As she stared up into his eyes, the monster, he changed somehow. The facade of confidence faltered and fell, his outstretched, blood-covered hands began to shake, and he fell to his knees beside her, bowing his head and allowing Christine to tear her eyes away for just a moment.

She couldn't stand to see him like this. She couldn't stand to stare into his eyes through this grim mockery of the love of her life, especially seeing the fury and the pain in his eyes. She couldn't handle it. She forced herself to look away, to look at the ground as she fought back the sobs that threatened to escape her throat. The last thing Christine Daae wanted was to startle this beast, this murderous creature that sat defeated next to her. If there was one thing she had learned through all of this, it was that he who she had once called her angel of music was unpredictable and likely to lash out if she made any sudden movements.

"Christine, I love you," murmured the murderer, and her head shot up and she glared at him, laughter welling in her chest.

"Love?" she demanded with a laugh, "You've no idea what that word _means_!" She found now that she had begun to laugh, she couldn't stop. The sound grew ever louder and more shrill as it was soon replaced with horrible, wracking sobs that caused her entire body to convulse with every breath. The Phantom looked back up at her, tears welling in his eyes, barely masking the anger which boiled within.

"No, miss Daae, it is _you_ who knows not the meaning of the word _love_." His voice was a low growl, and it was swallowed by the woman's hysterics. He reached out and took her by the shoulders, shaking her in an effort to shut her up, he couldn't take the laughter, the sobbing… As he shook her, the 'mask' he had made from the skin of her lover, that _boy_, came loose, and began to slide down his face.

Christine watched as the face and scalp of her lover fell from the Phantom's head and landed on the ground with a wet _splut._ She fell into a stunned silence, staring at him, her eyes wide and fearful. The Phantom snarled at her and shoved her away before pulling himself to his feet. "You should have just gone when you had the chance," he said.

As she was about to ask him what he meant by that, he reached out and grabbed her roughly by the arms, yanking her to her feet. "Enough with your crying. It will not bring your precious boy back to you. This is what you wanted, isn't it?" His voice and his actions were confident, cocky, even, but his eyes were fearful, his expression terrified. When he didn't receive an answer immediately, he shook her. "Isn't it?" he roared.

She shook her head. "Not like this. Never like this. You- You _promised me_ you wouldn't kill him if I chose you!" she managed to scream at him. "I loved him!"

The Phantom shook his head, releasing her and turning away, resting his hands against his organ. "You… You are incapable of lo-"

His words were cut short by a sharp pain in his side. His knees buckled and he looked down to find that Christine, this girl he had once mistaken for an angel, had driven a long piece of broken glass from his mirror deep into his side.

"You foul little minx," he choked. Something warm and metallic hit his tongue, and he dabbed his lips with his handkerchief. Blood. He managed a bemused laugh as he tried to turn back around. _If I am to die, I want her to watch the life leave my eyes,_ he thought as he collapsed to his knees, then to his side. As he had suspected, the girl couldn't stand to look at him. "Don't look away," he coughed, "the fun's just begun."

Christine tried to turn, tried to back away, but in spite of the mortal wound she had inflicted upon this monster who had disguised himself as an angel, he managed to grab the hem of her skirt, pulling her toward him as the light of life began to fade from his eyes. She shook her head and looked away, but he yanked her skirt as hard as he could, pulling her forward, causing her to trip. She landed on her knees, just a few inches from the puddle of blood that was staining the floor.

"You're no better than your poor Erik," spat the Phantom, spraying blood across her lap. Christine shrieked and tried to pull away. "Can't you even stand to see the death you've caused?"

His breathing became more labored, and Christine stole a glance at him as his hand fell from where it had gripped her dress hem. It wouldn't be long now. His eyes were losing focus as he stared up at this figure of hypocritical beauty, his angel. "Christine," he asked, "Will you si-" He coughed weakly, trying to clear his throat in vain. "Will you sing for me, one last time?"

Before she could respond, he coughed again, his body convulsing, his eyes darkening. Finally, he lay there, still as the surface of the underground lake. Christine bowed her head and shed the last tears she ever would for her poor angel.


End file.
